


tell me like that

by sugandt



Category: Tales of Berseria
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Coming Out, Emotionally Repressed, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 09:20:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16678876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugandt/pseuds/sugandt
Summary: "Alright,” Velvet starts, “anything you want to tell me?”Eizen swallows, shifting in the passenger seat awkwardly. He knows he can’t get out of it; Velvet’s golden, honey stare and patience keep him strapped in, and she won’t let him go until she gets an answer.





	tell me like that

**Author's Note:**

> thank u to my tales family for constantly letting me talk about bers college au no matter how repetitive or annoying it gets-- i love and appreciate u guys a lot!
> 
> Come talk to me on twt @celicacrowe ♡

“I’ll take you home,” Velvet’s hand comes to rest upon Eizen’s shoulder, nails chipped red and filed to a point, as per usual, “you’ve had too much to drink.”

  
Untrue. Eizen had one glass of wine, white, over an hour ago, and while his cheeks may be flushed light pink, it is not because of his drink. It was after their film ended-- Eleanor’s choice, foreign and indie-- and they hadn’t moved from lounging about Rokurou’s basement. One of Rokurou’s brothers-- the oldest, Eizen thinks, a graduate student at their university, Shigure. He had come to the basement, either to ask Rokurou for something, or to simply bother him the way brothers do.

“Good idea,” Eleanor says, “I don’t think the bus is running this late, anyway.”

But Shigure had only been wearing so much (or so little), and Eizen had only been able to watch as Rokurou dove toward his brother, shouting and waving his arms around and Shigure for the love of fuck put something on! Shigure stepped out of the way easily, a smug grin upon his lips, and the rest Eizen does not recall, for he felt a familiar curl in his core and his heart rate increase.

Velvet’s van is… well, it is Velvet’s. Rather clean, in comparison to Rokurou’s, but there is a blanket in the backseat that nobody is allowed to touch, for reasons Eizen does not care to know. Niko, Velvet’s long-term lover, had gifted her with a homemade decoration that hangs from her rearview mirror and smells of cinnamon. Most of all, Velvet’s van is comfortable, always warm when it needs to be, and she does not care who has the aux cord.

Velvet and Eizen approach a stretch of road not lit by street lights-- Eizen lives outside of the city in a smaller community. Snow falls lightly from the sky, sparkling, and only in the morning will it be known if it sticks to the ground. Eizen pulls his glasses from his face, fiddles with them, tries to wipe them clean on his cable knit sweater, but it’s the wrong fabric. Velvet approaches a red light, slowing to a stop. The song switches, Mitski. Eizen recognizes the bass.

“Alright,” Velvet starts, “anything you want to tell me?”

Eizen swallows, shifting in the passenger seat awkwardly. He knows he can’t get out of it; Velvet’s golden, honey stare and patience keep him strapped in, and she won’t let him go until she gets an answer. After all, she’s the one who would understand the best out of their group. How uncharacteristic of him to be so silent, often steadfast and confident in conversation, now he feels quite out of place and unsure. Except he’s not unsure.

“If you say it out loud, it’ll get easier,” Velvet coaxes, and Eizen sighs, tucking his glasses into their leather case. Say it out loud? He’s written it down so many times, he has lost count! In a journal, tucked beneath his pillow, where he pens his cursive late night thoughts.

“What do you want me to say, Velv?

  
“Look,” she says, “I’ve known Niko ever since I can remember. When we were about fourteen, I think, Arthur took us to Yseult for a week-- he had work or something there. Whatever. We were walking on the beach just talking about nothing, and fuck. She looked at me differently than she looked at everyone else. She still does. Eizen, when I speak, she listens.”

It sounds so silly. But Eizen knows.

“What does this have to with--”

“Everything.”

Eizen’s tongue feels heavy, mouth full of cotton. The red hue turns green, and Velvet’s foot presses the gas, sending her van into the darkness, headlights on.

“When Shigure came down,” Eizen starts, but is voice has become untrustworthy. Wobbling slightly, and on the precipice of breaking. He waits a moment before continuing, “I had him as a TA in second year, but it wasn’t-- it’s not just him, Velvet.”

She’s quiet. Letting him continue, “Zaveid, the barista at the library cafe. I can’t get the damn guy out of my mind. He’s just… Zaveid.”

“So, you’re gay, huh?” Eizen can just hear the smirk in Velvet’s voice. But the words spoken out loud…! He’s never felt so warm, so strange in his life. Comforting? In a way. Earth Shattering. In another way. He has so many questions for Velvet, so many cliche and awful questions that make him feel like a child when he so much as entertains the thought of asking her.

“How did you know?” Eizen counters her question with another question.

“About me?”

“About me.”

Quiet for a moment, Velvet contemplates this. Perhaps it was something she always knew, but she cannot recall a moment where it so blatantly struck her, other than earlier in the evening.

“I don’t know,” She answers honestly. Green floods the car, and Velvet’s head turns gently left and right before she accelerates. Passes one street light. Then two. Three.

“Don’t tell them yet,” Eizen means their friends; Rokurou, who wouldn’t care in the slightest, Eleanor, whose reaction he can’t gauge, Magilou, who would always find a way to bring it up, and dear Laphicet, who would--

“I’m not going to out you,” Velvet deadpans, “you know I wouldn’t do that.”  
“I know,” Eizen exhales. He slips his glass back onto his face, and turns his gaze to the window. There’s not much to look at but darkness, snow, and more darkness. When he gets home, he should bring out his winter wardrobe. How lovely a knit scarf would be for tomorrow morning!

“Good talk,” Velvet says, then turns the volume up, never one to push this sort of situation. Eizen, ever grateful for her, lets his shoulders fall from their tense position near his jaw, and focuses elsewhere. It’s not long until they reach his home.

As he’s exiting Velvet’s car, Eizen pauses, fingers gripping the door, careful to not touch the window. Velvet would eat him alive if she found fingerprints on her windows. She raises an eyebrow at him, as he bends down to ask her one final question.

“So, we’re okay?” Eizen’s tongue feels heavy in his mouth. Velvet gives him a reassuring, soft expression.

“Of course.”

“All right,” Eizen’s heels dig into the grass.

“You’re okay,” Velvet says, honest, “Call me if you need anything.”

“I will.”

“Good. Now get your fucking hand off my door and go get some sleep.”

Eizen finally laughs, closing the car door, “Night, Velv. Text me when you get home.”

“I always do,” Velvet nods, “Sleep well, Eizen.”


End file.
